an attempt to practice at a different art software, Clip Studio, which I acquired for a stupid reason and feel obligated to make use of. I could finish this drawing. Yes I absolutely could!
I still had to open up ye olde paint shopped proe 6 and use the mouse to clear up that which is there. I thought I had the PSP cd but I apparently only have Kid Pix, my original impossible to draw in except zoomed in really close since consumer art tablets did not exist back in 1994 software. I initially used it at the understaffed daycare for dumb kids that legally counted as “school” which I attended and then made my mother buy it for me after I got a home computer but eventually I had to concede that windows 3.1’s built-in and free pbrush.exe had more practical features with which to draw poorly using a mouse.
And I must say I have never gone through the hassle I did replacing my broken art tablets the past two years to get a replacement for my stupid old mouse, even if it is apparently highly controversial to sell me one without a keyboard.
For rather a few years I was curious about the likes of adope photoglop but never had a machine strong enough to run it well until 2009 or thereabouts. By the time I was decent at it, everybody I knew was trying to convince me I should use Sai or Manga Studio or flippindippin Gimp. I would ignore them at first but eventually see other people’s great results and think I was missing my chance to to do better, and then do far far worse trying. I may have to accept that I was correct all along in rejecting higher functioning software; I can only draw dumb stuff with dumb stuff!
A strange series of structures I drew two years ago. I thought this lacked a central focus and wanted to wait until I thought of one to show it, but, assuming that is always feasible, it is not always necessary! I added the bird thing and the two figures near the lower edge, anyhow.
Between 2001 and 2006 I started a bunch of stories that I am still working through, but their settings all look so earthly or worse, domestic to me now. If I started another I would put it in a place like this. Although I fear I will attempt to relocate existing stories to this kind of place and make more trouble for myself than I require. Places without ground are more interesting to me. They are more fun to look at.
I think we can all agree.
Part 3, page 08 of the questionable comic strip.
I was worried that I had lost touch with the comic through all the delays and my lack of a clear path to a conclusion, but I like this page more than many that came before it.
Unfortunately, you can tell nemitz is a scoundrel because nemitz ALWAYS thinks it is funny when elpse gets hurt.
What a ridiculous scenario. The lizard and elpse are fighting over NEMITZ. Nobody should want nemitz, much less two people trying to prove who wants nemitz more! Thankfully these are dumb imps and not people. Still, it makes me mad. The lizard thinks it is being polite by refusing the drink! It thinks it is TOO polite to drink that, even though it is causing a major problem, and it keeps saying lope. It literally does not know how to stop saying its name. After I work so hard to not say its name, it is quite rude to sabotage my work.
I shall honor the recently dead Christopher Lee by posting these pictures of him laying down the law while clutching a ridiculous over-sized vegetable pod and some manner of questionable imp looks on. If there were pictures of me in the same situation I would want people to know while I was still alive, however.
I do not think there is anything sad when a world famous celebrity gets dead at the age of 93, however, especially ones that have appeared in over two hundred films.
If Casey Kasem’s death was sad, it was because there was an unresolved dispute in his family, and the man’s final days were probably stressful, with lingering stress for those who could not fix the problem. It is NOT sad because it made Shaggy “Norville” Rogers, who is a fictional character, cry Mountain Dew Baja Blast-colored tears, when he went to some oddly sparse cartoon graveyard where nobody else is buried.
Much stranger are scenes showing just Scooby Doo weeping at the weird cartoon grave, as if the voice actor dying means the character is dead, even though four people apart from Casem have voiced Shaggy since 1998 in [wholly unnecessary] newer cartoons, and the initial Scooby Doo voice Don Messick has been dead since 1997, with Frank Welker doing the replacement, and he also has always provided the voice of Fred. It might be appropriate to show Fred rubbing his hands in treachery as he plots to take over more of the cast. In a weird cartoon graveyard.
With Messick’s death predating deviantart, I was sadly able to turn up far fewer creepy drawings of his gravestone, which is nonetheless a considerable achievement considering that he was cremated. Kasem meanwhile was buried in Oslo, Norway because his wife was crazy, which as far as I know is accurately depicted in the crude green-carpeted voids seen in these drawings. In another twist, Shaggy is alive again.
Just kidding, they are both actually dead. Gosh it is almost as if cartoons are not real people and thus are neither dead nor living and this sort of illustration has very little reason to exist.
A true mystery: Shaggy and Scooby at Casem and Messick’s imaginary graves, but this time there are two additional graves whose inscriptions cannot at this time be read. Is the implication that man and dog are next, with no reason to go on never-having-lived? Or has this person who couldn’t even be bothered to crop the digital camera picture of this lightly-stained ten minute drawing so that it is at least the center of attention put more effort into rendering a populated graveyard than any of the people who sprang for crayons?
My favorite shows Scooby Doo AND Bat-Man –who of course know each other; this partnership is not in itself notable– at a Kasem grave, Kasem having voiced Batman’s assistant Robin in Hanna Barbera cartoons. Even though those versions of Robin and Batman were based on the ones from the 1966 non-cartoon television series, which starred Burt Ward as Robin, who is not dead yet. Meanwhile, Olan Soule, the first voice (and my preference) of animated Batmen, has been dead since 1994. And once again the live Batman, Adam West*, yet lives. All the while, creepy oversized ghost heads float nearby with contented expressions showing they are oblivious to or quite proud of the suffering and confusion they have caused.
*West himself took over the animated Batman’s role later, but he and Scooby were no longer on speaking terms.
In other news, Ken Spears and Joe Ruby, the writers who actually conceived the Scooby Doo concept and characters, and presumably introduced Scooby Doo and Batman to each other, are also both still alive. Maybe they can get a pair of typewriters to cry at their hastily engraved resting places later.
There were a staggering meepload of these for Robin Williams. But in a week/month/year of tributes to a supposed comic genius, the hardest I laughed was coming across this, cartoon characters at a grave for a man they can’t plausibly have known existed, who was cremated, and didn’t actually voice them. Shouldn’t the grave say something like Cloppin Fillyums on it, given the alternate allegorical stupid horse-pun-based universe they inhabit?
That is true; otherwise this scene is completely serious and logical. But according to the image description, which regrettably was written, and regrettabler glanced at by me, the person who posted it didn’t even draw it; the person just assembled the elements from other drawings from other people, and only accomplished this much. So even if we are lost enough to imagine these characters are real and an acceptable vector for our own emotions on completely unrelated topics, at best they are faking it in front of a green screen on some other occasion. The animated franchise with the greatest potential for instant dork fame after spending the least amount of time learning to draw like it, and this person couldn’t even manage that, and still gets more recognition weekly than I ever had for almost any one thing my entire life. I felt bad making fun of the artists earlier, who clearly were not getting much respect as it was, but this kind of self-sustaining garbage is hard to coexist with calmly, even after five years.
But at least Robin Williams gets some scenery and a stylish mound, and a cheerfully inappropriate font.
That was rather odd, but could we possibly get a bootleg pikachu leaking Tide detergent onto a creepy cartoon grave that you stuffed five dead people into, four of whom certainly never had anything to do with Pokaymon plus one I never heard of?
I knew I could count on you.
I think these originated with Mel Blanc’s death and a widely-circulated drawing of Bugs Bunny and the et als, whose most distinguishing traits are the myriad ways they show no respect to anyone, looking mopey beside a spotlit microphone with the heading “SPEECHLESS.” To this day, prints of it are sold as if they haven’t been being cranked out for 25 years for apparent profit for the Time Warner company to people who would gladly pay to remember someone who made them glad with something that wants to force them to be sad. It seems the only thing better than institutionalized misery is spending money to take part.
This one for KC Case ’em at least makes a dorky joke on the topic that clashes with the intended air of reverence.
When Leonard Nimoy got dead I saw online remarks from people saying things like “I was driving when I heard and I had to pull my car over and cry for a while,” like this was someone they had met and knew very well, who had made a direct, personal investment in their lives. I am told he participated in his cult fan-dom, and had a fatherly aura, but he hardly left a great deal of business unfinished in his life. This level of attachment to celebrity is lost on me.
I remember when George Carlin did it, there were months of tributes to him, and I did not really see the prolonged public justification. But I accepted that; I did not seek out standup comedy, generally, and most of the tributes were from people who had worked with him or seen him perform who just happened to have high-profile television jobs but didn’t feel like doing him any favors while he was alive. I also remembered that when Bernie Mac went dying there was hardly anything within my radius, but I accepted that I mainly watched shows with mainly white people on them. Steve Jobs, alright, I never liked Apple-computer-brand stuff. Even my i-pod, which I did like, felt needlessly hard to use just to seem innovative. Literally, Apple’s slogan of the period was “Think Different.” No need to think better, just arbitrarily turn practical 2-direction control into a wheel and give it a plug that nothing else already uses or potentially will ever be able to use. And try to force me to reconfigure my operating system outside the i-pod while you are at it.
But with Robin Williams: he himself, not just people who knew him, was in films, and on television, stuff that I saw, and the effect of his death on me was about the same as any others I mentioned. I saw tributes from people of my approximate social status to the effect that they felt like they lost a family member or a piece of themselves forever even though the stuff he did has been preserved in the exact same form it was first encountered in (unless you saw him perform live, which none of these people have (maybe they WANTED to, and now know they cannot ever, but much emotional difference does that make?)). So now I know I do not belong. It was not the society-wide media-mandated mourning of the World Trade Center attack, but this was just one person, who had made quite a bit of money and, at the very least, knew he was about to die, and not a few thousand done in without warning.
In this country. Who cares if hundreds of thousands die or are driven from their homes somewhere else? Nobody is expected to care about everyone else in the world; it would probably kill any of us if we tried. But certainly we should take stock of what we are losing our marbles over. I have breakdowns all the time due to very personal things; in fact they rarely involve any unconnected figure’s hardship. I could not mentally afford that. It would never let up. I can’t even handle birthdays.
I was wondering what yet-living public figure has made the biggest impact on my life. But they, at least the ones we make celebrities out of, almost always work in groups, and rarely produce a totally unique, non-imitated/imitating product, and no singular product sums up my life, or would cease to sum it up if one of the people who made it stopped living. And I say that as someone with very little social contact, who theoretically should have all the more reason to fill my empty life with far off Hollywud
Back to Williams, it WAS sad to me, because it was a suicide, and in fact I never had any ability to relate to Williams prior to knowing he had a depression issue –yes, I have also acted like an idiot for attention, but with far less encouragement– and could barely stand him at all until he took on a more subdued persona post-heart surgery, but he will not quickly be forgotten if we don’t rush to say he won’t be.
And Leonard Nimoy has contributed to about 536 Starry Trek-related productions, probably enough where if you watched them all in order you would have forgotten the first one by the time you got to the end and you could start over. He lacked the potential that Robin Williams had to take on future significant projects, and hardly needed it by the time of his not-quite-deadness. And I am not advising to forget the creations and participations of people who appeal to you, but to quote somebody I hated during My Childhood, take a chill pill, get a grip.
In fact I did not see anybody freaking out over Christopher Lee but apparently I deleted this text from an earlier post, presumably the one I just linked at, and this seemed like my best chance to use it. For the love of MacGuffin, if you like something somebody did 20 years ago, please tell them before they die, because afterward that is going to be a lot less important to them, and undoubtedly someone else you know could use the attention more by that point. And please don’t put me in a box in the ground in a sad grave. ESPECIALLY if you like what I did while alive, don’t ruin your or anyone else’s day unless you truly have to. Put me in one of those cadaver museums or feed me to needy owls, or something useful.
page 7 of part 3 of this questionable comicoid.
I like that the lizard’s nose is a different shape in every frame. At this point the comic primarily exists for me to laugh at that creature.
The last frame probably has too many actions for one frame but i think the order is apparent eventually.
I decided somebody should actually hold the shopping bag by its handles once before it passes from relevance, to justify drawing them all this time. I would like you to think I deliberately avoided using them as some subtle commentary on how dumb these imps are but I do not think that far ahead.
Inconsistencies between here and the last time I showed this apartment are merely my own lack of effort and not deliberate evidence of in-story subterfuge.
A surprising number of my picture ideas seem to involve stairs.
Why does nemitz look at ME at the end? Why does it try and put responsibility on me for mitz mitztakes? I am half-convinced nemitz did this on purpose to try and get sympathy out of me. Know this: none is forthcoming! I have a good mind to kick nemitz out of the house, but its willful incompetence has deprived me of the right.
a potential design for new potential business cards. Alas, I know nothing of business, and my card attempts reflect that. I subconsciously channeled this ancient, totally unusable design:
Both are way too busy but they are at least honest. If I delivered a simple, efficient, graphic designy card it would be a lie because that is not the sort of product I produce. I was hoping the old card design would be conspicuously less legible by comparison to the new one when reduced, but alas they are about the same! I never used it as a card, but I did expand it vertically to use as a sign at some event about which there is little positive to say. firstname.lastname@example.org is the same email address I had then; anything @bimshwel.com gets forwarded to me but I have difficulty deciding on what placebo email@example.com to give myself.
This one is from 2011, long enough ago that I thought inkbunny would ultimately be something I could admit to having an account on, and was willing to put money behind promoting my use of. If you are unfamiliar with Inkbunny, good. All you need to know is that it does not allow Toothcup.
That it does not allow Toothcup, capital T, that is actually one of the things it has going for it, and that many of the people you will deal with wish that were not the case. If you do not know what toothcup is, good. All you need to know is less than I already told you.
These days I will not put any of them on my card, which is in fact the very reason I chose horrible “names” like “queg” and “skrimpf” to begin with: so that nobody could connect them to my legal horrible name. I chose queg so nobody would know I had a deviantart account, and then I chose skrimpf so nobody would know queg was using furfaninity. I chose frubaklop because I had lost control of my life and figured there was no sense in hiding anymore.
For a brief, notorious period, and it must have been brief because it looks as if even at the time I was uncertain whether I should keep the website names vague so as to avoid outing myself all needless-like, I thought I was comfortable, and I cursed myself for choosing names nobody would ever look for me at, and now I am grateful again. This is my place and these are my people so I should not deny it, I seem to have thought. Those are not my places. I mention them here specifically because I thought it would be sufficient to stop using those names and websites to make people stop identifying me with them, which was not the case so I will say it here: please do not ever call me skrimpf, unless you are deliberately trying to irritate me, which is a valid pursuit, but better you do it on purpose than by mistake. I do have http://bimshwel.deviantart.com/ , which queg forwards to, but “DA” is still fundamentally a fanart porn site, like the other two, that I will always be marginalized on [for not drawing or appreciating fanart porn], and I prefer to be marginalized on my own terms. However, such websites are a bit more social than my heap, here, so I keep on with the one I am least embarrassed about overall.
At this point in the original manuscript I digressed into several paragraphs on identity and denial that were beside the point and tone, and were keeping me from finishing this, even though I only came to post the one picture! They have been removed for now. Indeed I am as messed up inside up as my card is outside. Why pretend? Why try and trick somebody into hiring me based on something that is uncharacteristic of what I can deliver?
Because otherwise I will not be hired! The first cards I actually had printed were very sparse, since that was, is the only way I could have control of the situation.
Control, such as with my broken, spring-based mechanical heating control panel, which these cards were useful for regulating the strength of during our six months of winter. I discussed a key design aspect in more detail here, but the blank space after “and” was so I could write something different on each card, such as “intrepid tortellini,” “raisin toads,” or “no dopes,” because I am not satisfied unless I make a hassle out of everything. The foremost one here says “you know what, you deserve it.” I can say that because you are here now, and therefore on some level you do.
After what I said yesterday, I considered that maybe I really have been on the wrong track. Maybe I need to, for the first time, really step back and evaluate what I am doing. Stop redrawing, start rethinking. Make a real plan, and start over. Do something that I can really engage people with, and stop being so silly and hard to understand. With that in mind I unveil a bimshwel.com exclusive, a sneak peak at the poster for the deluxe crowd-sourced reboot. Backers who donate $15 or more will get their own limited edition print signed by the entire cast except pog. Backers who donate $30 or more will get pog (they will have to share)
This was made a few years ago for a powerpoint-ish presentation I gave on the topic of animation , specifically cost-reducing measures, on this slide. However, since it was not an animation class, nobody noticed my special details and I lost points in the end for going over the allotted time. I blame nemitz (these are both nemitz). I also object to how floppity the ears are on the second one but for the moment I am refusing to acknowledge them.
One more wretched nemitz. I cleaned up the central portion with mouse toiling, but otherwise this is what my quackom intuos3 tablet does now. It drops big blobs and does not stop. All I can do is direct the flow. It has some mild decorative use but is not helpful, generally. Which is fitting for nemitz, but if you think this picture is not too bad, I should tell you this was an inadvertent result of a device out of control.
When I tried to make a nemitz on purpose this was as far as I could proceed before giving up.
The problem was with the pen. I found that if I told this to people other than myself they would insist it must be a driver issue. I knew it was strictly physical since it could turn on and off in rapid succession, possibly sensitive to air temperature, and was a problem I could not fix by altering software settings, and ought to have been content that my decision to replace the device was justified, even if no one I talked to understood, since it was ultimately only relevant to me anyhow. I instead wrote numerous lengthy replies to anyone who dared talk to me trying to assure them that it was NOT a driver issue, addressing all their points, giving it far too much thought, seeming angry and insane and wearing myself out. Each person would then interpret my reply as a plea for alternate solutions, which required more lengthy replies, trying to address a problem, that I seem to be in a desperate panic, lashing out at everyone who tries to help me, that is totally removed from the original problem of a machine not working properly that I do not actually desire help diagnosing the problem with, since I have already determined it and how I will address it, and should not have mentioned to begin with. I bought the unit used for $175, and I suppose it just about paid for itself, so I broke
In addition to the pen issue, the power cable began to not supply energy unless positioned ever so precisely, hence the tape holding it in place in the picture I showed before I wrote an endless irrelevant summary of my adventures in endless irrelevant summaries.
My computer drawings were exclusively mouse done for 15 years, and when I finally bought a graphic tablet in June 2011 I disliked it immensely and did not use it for almost a year. I had not been actively pursuing the idea of getting one, so I only did by chance, and was content to not use it when I had it.
My recollection is that I drew this with it immediately but it is dated May 2012. What is important is that the first and last things I drew with the tablet were both nemitz and both terrible. Even they look bothered this times. Ordinarily nemitzes thrive on being awful. Wacom may be an anti-nemitic organization.
WHO and nemitz??! This sentence is destined to be slander against me, and it was wise to remain incomplete.
If nemitz fans want to hear from ME, all that shall be audible is my disappointment in them for being nemitz fans. Honestly, how does this concern me in the slightest?
That is better! Unfortunately this seems to be another nemitz with less grabbable ears. It most certainly appears in silhouette due to be being embarrassed at lacking fans/ears. Or perhaps it locked the door and this is a keyhole. It is revolutionary that a nemitz feels shame or humility, and maybe there is hope for it, but on the other mitt, no nemitz has the right to try and prevent me from going someplace! Know this: I go where I like and do as I please! Nemitz I ORDER you to open that door so I can be annoyed at how stupid you look!
And it can ROT in jail! Just because I ordered it to open the door does not obligate me to go through the door! Nemitz is not my mother and I refuse to take orders from it or feel guilty for not visiting it. And how dare you address me with an informal greeting!
How about I start kicking nemitz? What is this, is nemitz a remote-controlled ice cream scoop camera? is nemitz a terrible “indy” video game that homages old games and brings absolutely nothing new or interesting to the mix? Is nemitz potato salad? Is nemitz a loose confederation of aimless nerds that nonetheless inspire devotion from nerds with even more aimless lives because they are nerds out of perceived trendiness, even though that is in fact the opposite of being a nerd, pursuing a personal passion at the possible expense of social status, and throwing money at dumb ideas is just what they think nerds are supposed to do, money of which half will be blown manufacturing irrelevant trinkets to thank me for donating and the rest never accounted for?
Wait, that is not right. Usually nemitz is happy at the end and I am upset! In fact there has not been a single smiling nemitz in this entire post! How infuriating! Whose fault is this?